We struck up a friendship when (it’s a long story, so feel free to zone out) I was researching her agent and came across April’s name as one of her clients.

“April Henry …” I mulled. “Didn’t I go to school with an April Henry? Wouldn’t it be wild if it was the same girl and she ended up in Portland, too? And is a writer, too?! I don’t remember that she wrote during high school, but you never know.”

So I emailed her.

Instead of emailing back a terse “Nope,” April was friendly and kind. She even asked what I was writing. (After all, I was planning to query her agent.) We started emailing, and developed that kind of instant intimacy so common to Internet addicts everywhere. Eventually we met in person and discovered that we lived just a couple of miles apart and shared a few other small-world connections.

She’s very cool and funny and lets me observe the behind-the-scenes world of the published writer. Instead of worrying, “Will I ever get published?” she worries about things like, “Will that producer decide to option my book?”

No, I’m not envious! Hahahahahahahaha!

Don’t be ridiculous!

I am far too evolved and secure to envy her tantalizingly long list of published works solid credentials.

Her, um, agent … heh heh … rejected me.

And yet!

I’ve still got April.

I just noticed that she’s added her high school photo to her website.

Honestly?

She’s much cuter than the April Henry who went to my school.

*When I am very old and doddering in my assisted-living cell … I will not recognize my loved ones or remember my best life experiences, but I will undoubtedly still be able to rattle off random lines from “Toy Story” and “Toy Story 2,” due to repeated enforced viewings when my son was little.